


you teach me how to see all that's beautiful

by loveknowsnoboundaries



Category: One Direction
Genre: Harry is older than Louis, M/M, Student!Harry, Twenty-one!Harry, blind!louis, eighteen!louis, pianist!louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:57:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveknowsnoboundaries/pseuds/loveknowsnoboundaries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There has been this one person who once said that true love's eyes are blind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.

Louis’ fingers ran over his piano’s keyboard, warm, soft notes surrounding his and wrapping him in a tight hug. He knew that song perfectly, vibrations reaching his ears telling him that he was playing it very, very well. The window was open, shy sunlight seeking through the silky, white curtains. He heard the soft ticking sound drops made when falling on the cold glass, as snow was slowly melting.  
Louis liked Spring, it was his favourite season of the year. His hands stopped. A weak shadow of the music still echoing behind his back. Louis sighed, reaching for his walking stick and unlocking his big bedroom’s door.

“I was wondering if you planned of ever coming out of there.” His mother, Jay, said, annoyance clearly audible in her tone.

Louis shrugged, reaching his free hand out, touching his mother’s arm to ‘see’ where she was standing just to walk past her. “I needed to relax.”

“Have you followed any of your morning courses, this week?”

“Not really, I told Mr Higgins that all his hard work was useless with me.” Jay’s jaw dropped open, then she shook his head and followed Louis down the marbled stairs. “You did what?” She abruptly stopped in front of Louis, who stumbled and nearly fell from the stairs. “Louis, you know you can’t do that, right? I did anything I could to let you study here, at home, with your private teachers and all. You can’t fire them without my permission, I am the one here who tells the other what to do. Have you got a mere idea of how much money I spent on you?”

“Yes, Mom, you don’t need to remind me this every damn time.” Louis huffed, using his stick to proceed with his walk, finally arriving in the wide salon of the house.  
Jay followed him close, thinking that maybe Louis didn’t want her to baby him like she, probably, always did. Louis was a beautiful, talented, piano prodigy, blind eighteen years old boy. He was Jay’s boy and she couldn’t even bear the thought of him being able to do things by himself without needing Jay’s help, because he always looked for his mother’s help and maybe she got a bit too used to it she didn’t realise Louis was now a man.  
She always had to take care of Louis on her own, since her ex husband left her and Louis when the boy was only three years old. He was born blind, never saw no silhouettes, no shadows, not even his mother’s face. No anything.

But Louis was different, he had a special talent, which exploded when the boy was around the age of six. Exactly when he first laid his hands on a piano. Jay was dazed, watching in complete awe his son’s tiny hands running along the blacks and whites, and she couldn’t really comprehend how was he able to do that without even looking at the arrangement. Louis felt vibrations not even his master could seize. He listened carefully to them, then associated them to the keys spread out below his fingers and started playing, his eyes closed as he focused on the vibrations and sounds and fluid movements, notes, music. Prodigy, his master called him so.

But Louis’ behaviour changed throughout the years, the boy becoming more and more closeted, incredibly quiet and he always preferred being alone in his room with his arrangements rather than going out with his mother and his four little sisters.  
He had no friends, and it seemed to him like he wasn’t actually able to make any, as though people looked at him with different eyes (oh, how funny?), and distanced themselves from the feather-haired boy. The thing that frustrated Jay more than anything, was the fact that Louis looked anything but happy.  
She had worked hard her whole life to give Louis anything he’d need, a bigger, wider house, private teachers (who were fired one by one after no more than a month), his new piano. They lived a wealthy life, and Jay knew Louis wasn’t being ungrateful or anything, she couldn’t even imagine how hard life could have been for her boy.

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” Jay sighed, looking at her glass of white wine held tight by her fingers. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“Stop doing things for me, yeah?”

“I want you to have the best of the lives, Louis, can’t you just understand that?” She said, exasperatedly. Louis let himself fall on one of the black leather-covered armchairs, abandoning his walking stick by his side.

“What if I want- have you ever thought that maybe this isn’t what I want?” Louis’ vitreous eyes were pointed right in front of him, wide open. “That this all could be what you want?”

“What else are you looking for, then?”

“I don’t know.”

* * *

 

“Harry, please, don’t be late!”

He waved his hand to his mother, giving her a bright smile before closing his house’s door behind his back. Cool air hit his face, wind ruffling his long, curly hair; maybe he should’ve worn something else besides his sheer button-up. He started walking towards the centre of the small city he lived in, where his University was located. Harry always chose the longest path, walking through the residential neighbourhood, stopping a bit more than how he should under that particular window on the first floor of the big, white house at the end of the road.  
He would sit under it, his back resting against the wall, listening to that soft mix of notes which didn’t really make sense in his head, he wasn’t made for this kind of art, but that had a calming effect on the green eyed boy.  
He would get up from the cold concrete with his ass completely freezing but with the widest of the smiles painted on his lips. Harry studied History of Art at University, and loved photography. He had always had talent for this kind of things, he’d already sold some of his artworks and he was only twenty-one.  
His teachers told him many times he’ll have a great future as a professional photographer, and Harry liked to believe they were right. Harry also liked painting. He liked having a white canvas in front of him and dozens of cans strewed all around him, a paintbrush as a weapon in his hands. His soul was portrayed in his paintings, yet they were less appreciated than his photos. He was still quite content with that.

Today wasn’t a really different day, besides the fact that his sister, Gemma, finally got back from America. She moved there with her boyfriend and got back home only three, four times a year, and Harry always waited for those times with a slight lump in his throat.  
The green eyed boy walked with his books and his picture’s folder tight against his chest, head low trying to hinder the strength of the wind lashing the air. Then he lifted up his gaze, and saw the big house right in front of him, then smiled. He silently slipped under the windowsill and let the sound of Four Seasons by Vivaldi envelop him, all his thought flowing like waterfalls away from his mind, just as the notes flew and danced around him.

‘I need to know who plays this, I can’t hide forever under their window, can I?’ Harry thought, smiling and trying to lift himself up beyond the marble windowsill. Another thing you need to know about Harry: he’s extremely clumsy.

“Ouch, shit!”

Harry slapped his hand on his mouth, getting up from the concrete and gathering his things as fast as he could before running away, hoping that nobody saw him. “Stupid. How. Fucking. Stupid.” He said, mentally slapping himself, completely unaware of what his nosey reaction caused behind that windowsill.

* * *

 

“What?” Louis whispered, stopping abruptly and using his stick to approach the window; he left it open, as usual. The boy reached for its handles and closed it, still slightly puzzled: not many people usually walked down that street, and Louis knew perfectly well all the voices of his neighbours, and that one didn’t even resemble them. Louis was sure he never heard that voice before.

“Louis, are you okay?” His mother said, her head peeking from behind the wooden door of Louis’ bedroom.

“I thought I heard-” He started, lowering his head. Jay walked towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Louis lifted his head, his look pointed on Jay’s lips. The woman caringly caressed his cheek and placed her fingers under his chin to lift his gaze to her eyes’ level. “Yes, it’s everything okay, Mom.”

She sighed, nodding and smiling sadly up at her boy, who looked completely lost. “Call me if anything, yeah?”

Louis nodded, walking to his bed and letting himself fall on it. He was sure he heard a voice, a soft, dark, yet sweet voice which sang to him.  
Louis knew perfectly that what the voice spoke wasn’t exact what people call poetry, but Louis caught the music in them, caught the voice’s own musicality, and suddenly became captivated by it.

Was he exaggerating? Maybe just a bit.

Did he care? Not at all.

* * *

 

“Please, please don’t tell me you hid again under that posh villa’s window. Please, Harry?” Liam said, pinching the bride of his nose between his thumb and index finger. Harry shrugged, an apologetic smile plastered on his face, as he withdrew in between his shoulders. “Why are you doing this every damn week?”

“I like that music. Liam, you should listen to it, really.” Harry said, and Liam pushed him. “What?”

“Couldn’t it be a simple CD?” Liam suggested, cocking an eyebrow at Harry, who huffed.

“I know it’s not. I can picture gentle hands running along that keyboard...”

“I think you spend too much time stalking this mysterious pianist, Harold.”

Harry laughed lowly, his hands running through his hair, pulling them back from his forehead. Maybe Liam was right, he even left his precious camera, and all the study which went along with that, behind lately, and maybe he’s been thinking too much about those elegant hands he’d never seen, not even once. And maybe hiding under someone’s windowsill for a month straight every single morning before going to Uni was becoming a bit too much.

“Maybe yes, maybe not. I tried to peek at the room’s inside but-”

“Harry!”

“-but I fell off and I think someone heard me, because the music suddenly stopped and I heard footsteps approaching the window, before running away.”

“So that’s why you were panting this morning? Harry, are you seriously doing... what are you doing?” Liam huffed out a laugh, but Harry couldn’t really see what was bad in wanting to listen to really good music instead of having Liam’s rap shit in his head from seven o’clock in the morning until midnight.

“What’s bad with that? Do I have to remind what you did when you liked that bloke, what was his name... Zayn?” Liam froze, and Harry smirked. “I guess I don’t.”

“It’s completely different, you-”

“I sit under their windowsill and simply listen. I don’t even know who plays that music, I just listen. It was you who followed every single move that poor boy made, before feeling brave enough to ask him out.” Harry said, stopping in front of his house. Liam shook his head, although he still couldn’t understand what was inside his best friend’s head, the older one couldn’t help but smile, and Harry was grateful Liam was finally done with rebuking him. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah- yes, Harold. And be careful.”

“’Night, granny.”

“Fuck you!”

Harry shook his head, still laughing to himself, while he entered the cosy warmth of his house.


	2. 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so short and also sucks but please forgive me

When Harry woke up, his alarm had finished beeping for twenty minutes. He groaned, stretching his tired limbs and covering his face with his hands.

"Get up, you sloth."

"G'morning to you too, Gemma." Harry replied, the fakest of fake smiles plastered on his face as he turned to his sister, who was leaning against the door's jamb. She rolled her eyes, not hiding a smile, and walked to her brother's bed, sitting on it and patting Harry's bare back.

"Aren't you going to be late?" She asked, taking Harry's alarm in her hands and starting to play with it. Harry hummed in response, not caring at all about being late for Uni, or better, he cared. Because if he was being just a tad late, he could've stayed even ten more minutes under that - _his_ \- windowsill, without risking to lose one of his morning courses. "Sure as hell, you are."

"You could've like, picked up an outfit for me instead of just rambling about me being late. It could've helped, you know?" Harry said, playfully pushing Gemma, who melodramatically fell on Harry's bed, her right hand resting on her forehead. "C'mon, you're way better than me at choosing outfit," He said and kissed her temple, being his ruffian self he had always been. "I'm taking a shower."

Gemma stood up, moving her hand in a way that said 'go, leave' as she rummaged in Harry's messy wardrobe, looking for something that didn't look too weird, or too _Harry-ish_.   
Harry rushed to the bathroom, launching himself under the hot water spry; he quickly washed his hair and body, without even drying that curly cloud that was on his head before getting in his room again: he got dressed in the black, ripped skinny jeans and sheer - patterned button down Gemma got for him, grabbed his camera and headed downstairs.

"Hey," Anne said, sweetly, as Harry popped a kiss on her cheek. "aren't you even staying for breakfast?"

"'M late!" Harry said, his mouth full with a bite of Anne's delicious homemade chocolate cake, and shut the door close behind his back.   
He started walking in the direction of the residential area, chewing the last bites of the cake as he speeded up his walking pace, not wanting to miss his relaxing ten minutes of good music.   
He didn't even bother pick up Liam's call, which now surely were more than twenty, because his phone was thrown in his jean's back pocket and he hadn't got enough coordination to hold his books and camera with one arm and pull out his phone from his pocket. His feet were burning in his brown boots and the hot sun wasn't really helping, Harry hated feeling all sweaty.   
He reached the house within a few minutes, but he suddenly had to stop his race: the house's door was open and he spotted a black walking stick being held by a beautiful boy, clad in black skinnies and a grey turtleneck. A dark haired woman was right beside him, looking for something in her bag that clearly wasn't there, Harry assumed she was the boy's mother. And that the blind, stunning boy standing by her side was the pianist Harry had wondered so much on.

"I forgot my phone and my keys inside, wait here." She said, and the boy nodded, as though saying 'where do you think I could ever go'.   
Harry took a few silent steps towards the boy, hoping that his mother wasn't going to find her keys so easily.

He put his books on the concrete, grabbing his camera and turning it on (Liam would've first of all called him a stalker, then proceeded with disowning him), focusing the lens on the boy's small figure and, without caring about how actually stalker-ish that would've seemed, took a photo of him.   
The shutter's sound made the boy turn, and Harry got totally absorbed by his vitreous eyes; he was frowning, trying to understand from where that sound came, but soon after shrugged slightly, starting to play with his stick. Harry immediately got up when he saw the boy's mother coming out of the big, white house again, and proceeded with his walk, nodding at her as a greet when he walked past them. He kept looking at that photo every now and then for the rest of the morning, missing almost everything his professors said and getting at leats fifteen rebukes from each one of them.

*************

"Harry, I swear to God you scare the hell out of me when you have that expression." Liam said, he and Harry slumped against one of the Uni's brick walls. Harry laughed, shaking his head and:

"It isn't something illegal, I promise," Then passed his camera to Liam, who kept staring at the curly haired boy with an eyebrow cocked. "look."

Liam turned his gaze downwards, towards Harry's camera, screened its display for a while and then shifted his gaze to his friend again. "Please."

"What?"

"Who is even this boy?"

"My pianist, Liam."

Liam's jaw dropped. "Your what? No wait, - he suddenly said, closing his eyes and stopping Harry by putting a hand on the boy's mouth. "The one you're stalking?"

"I'm not stalking him, I repeat. I'm ignoring your comment right now, isn't he just... stunning?" Harry said, taking his camera again from Liam's hand.

"Is that-"

"A walking stick? Yes."

"So he is-"

"Blind, exactly! Liam you should really listen to him playing the piano, he's so talented." Harry exclaimed, dreamy. Liam pushed him and Harry stick his tongue out at him, making the dark eyed boy laugh. "You know that feeling when you, like- when you see this person for the first time and it feels to you like you've always known them? I mean it's not love, but this boy seems so interesting, that kind of interesting which makes you want to talk to them for hours, listen to everything they have to say, hold them-"

"Slow down, man." Liam laughed, side-hugging Harry and ruffling his hair. "Do you this he's our same age, by the way?"

"I don't know, he looks younger than me, though. He can be, like, nineteen, at least. You can stop calling it stalking if so."

"Whatever, I was starting to feel like it wasn't funny anymore."

"You liar."

* * *

 

"Is everything alright?" Jay asked, feeling Louis tensing and unusually (too) silent, sitting on the seat beside hers.

"Hmh." Louis hummed, his head resting against the window.

Jay sighed, caressing her boy's thigh as she drove to the private hospital where Louis' specialist worked. She wasn't aware at all of how much Louis hated doing this every damn year, driving to that hospital (he hated hospitals, not that he’d actually ever seen one, he just hated the heavy atmosphere he breathed in there) just to hear the same thing every time, basically that he would have never gained his sight.

“Honey,” Jay started, ignoring Louis’ annoyed huffs. “I want you to be happy, I’m doing this for you-”

“Why would you think that being able to see would make me happy? You have no idea what can make me happy because you never cared about it!” Louis snapped, his hands flying in his hair. He started tugging on the caramel-brown locks, really wanting to rip them off his head. He hoped he could avoid getting a nervous breakdown in front of his mother, this time.

“Louis, don’t you think we’ve fought enough about this? I really love you, and maybe I don’t know what could ever make you happy but not because I don’t care about you,” She said, wiping a tear which had fallen on Louis’ cheekbone away with her thumb. “we haven’t spoke a lot these days, haven’t we?”

“You’re never at home.”

“You’re always in your room.” Louis opened his mouth to reply, but soon after closed it again, and Jay smiled. “I love you, Louis. I could never do something against your wills, something that could hurt you. You’re my only child, and I’d just- I’d do anything to make you happy, I hope you know that.”

Louis nodded, he had to because he knew perfectly how many sacrifices she’d done for him, although she didn’t even ask Louis if he wanted to meet his specialist again to know if this umpteenth surgery he should undergo would work. They reached the majestic white building and Jay left her car in the parking lot, helping Louis getting out of the car. They both kept silence as they walked inside the building to the doctor’s office, some nurses occasionally greeting Louis, the boy simply waving a hand to greet them back as Jay smiled apologetically.

“Oh, Louis! How are you feeling today?” The affable man greeted him, walking over him to shake his hand.

“Great.” Louis flatly replied, using his stick to reach one of the chair placed in front of the doctor’s desk. Jay followed him, sitting and taking Louis’ hand. He didn’t squeeze it back.

“So, Mrs Tomlinson,” Louis heard the doctor browsing through his medical record, and his mother nervously straightening her shirt. “I have told you about this new kind of laser surgery, which will surely have more and better results than the classical ones Louis underwent.”

“But?” Louis asked, feeling like there was a ‘but’, because that was way too easy to be true.

“But...” The doctor sighed, adjusting his thick glasses on the bridge of his nose. “it’s not available at the moment, not here, at least. And Louis’s too young to process it in the country where the treatment is available. I don’t think a couple of years would make the situation worse.”

“Nothing could ever make it worse, after eighteen years, don’t you think?” Louis bitterly replied, Jay glaring at him. The doctor just smiled, understanding Louis’ reaction.

“You just have to be patient, Louis, it isn’t so common that someone of your age waits for so long without complaining, not even once. I’ll see if I can do something to shorten your waiting times.”

“Thank you.” Louis said, getting up from his chair when he felt his mother doing the same. Jay nodded, shaking the doctor’s hand and followed Louis out of the room.

“How are you?” Jay asked, resting her hand on Louis’ shoulder.

“Great.”


	3. 3.

The beautiful boy was sitting on his house’s patio, his stick abandoned next to him as he fidget with his hands, his face turned downwards. Harry was a few steps apart from him; he’d decided to skip University that morning, not that he’d planned to encamp there and stare at the boy forever. Just until lunch time couldn’t be considered as ‘always’, right?

The small boy huffed a couple of times, adjusting his fringe which kept falling in front of his eyes, and Harry followed every movement his tiny hand made, noticing how gentle they were and wishing to see them swinging on the piano’s keyboard. He’d been staring at him for a little while now (twenty minutes of silent and discrete gaping) and he even tried to take some other photos, having fought with Liam – who wanted to take his camera away – to have it back and after telling him he needed it to complete some work his professors assigned him.

“It isn’t so polite to stare at people, you know.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, his face still turned down to his camera as he tried to focus the lenses. He slowly shifted his gaze to the boy’s small figure, who’d cracked a smile meanwhile and Harry swore that he’d be lying if he’d say that his little smile wasn’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“I’m sorry.” He simply replied, not knowing what else to say since he’d been caught off guard. “How-”

“Your gaze was burning a hole in my back. I could literally feel it.” Harry’s cheeks were on fire.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, uhm- to scare you?”

“You didn’t scare me, I was just wondering what were you even doing here, this place’s so boring.”

 _I was doing nothing besides staring at you and occasionally taking photos of you_ , Harry thought, moving closer to the boy. “It isn’t, it’s a nice neighbourhood.”

“I can’t tell.” The boy replied, cocking an eyebrow and shrugging. “I like your voice.”

“Oh- oh, thank you,” Harry wasn’t sweating at all. “can I ask you what your name is?”

“It’s Louis.” _Louis_. “What’s yours?”

“I’m Harry, um,” Harry slowly climbed up Louis’ house’s outside stairs, sitting on the steps, his back resting on the railing. “How- how old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?” He asked, and Harry spotted a small smirk on Louis’ thin, pink lips.

“Nineteen?”

“Nope. I’m eighteen, actually turning nineteen this December.”

“I really hope this won’t scare you now, but,” Harry murmured, even though Louis got what he said anyways. “I-I heard you playing the piano, and- yeah, well you are very, very talented.” Louis blushed slightly, getting up and using his stick to reach the stairs, taking a seat a few inches apart from Harry.

“I always forget to close my room’s window. Thank you, though, it comes quite... naturally to me.”

“Keep forgetting to close it.” Harry blurted out automatically, covering his mouth afterwards. Louis smiled widely. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“It’s okay, it’s nice though.”

“What?”

“Talking to someone who’s not our housemaid. And who’s probably my same age?”

“I’m three years older than you, actually...” Harry said, folding his hands and setting them on his lap.

“That’s even better.” Louis replied, playing with a small bracelet wrapped around his thin wrist. “So... you go to University, then?”

“Yes, um, University of Arts, it’s not far from here.”

“I’d love to go there, too, but my mom-” Louis stopped, frowning. “Whatever.”

Harry nodded, wanting to ask the boy what was wrong with his mother, but he wasn’t really sure they already were at the point in a relationship in which friends talk about their private problems. They weren’t even friends, but Harry could consider Louis as an acquaintance, at least.

“Are you still there?” Louis asked, reaching his hand out. He grazed Harry’s shoulder, and even if Harry thought he would have pulled it back soon after, he was quite content when he saw Louis leaving his tiny, warm hand rest on his shoulder before sliding it all the way down Harry’s arm. “Okay, you’re still here. I thought you took advantage of my blindness to run away.”

“Why would you think I’d want to run away?”

Louis shrugged, and “I’m boring? I don’t know. Nobody stayed and talked with me for more than a couple of minutes if they had the chance to silently slip away from me.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry said, resting his hand on Louis’ shoulder. The boy tensed at the touch, and Harry was about to pull it back, but Louis shook his head, smiling. “I like keeping you company, you’re interesting.”

“Am I?”

“Sure as hell you are!” Harry exclaimed, and Louis laughed. “Too confidential?”

“You’re funny.” Harry smiled fondly, wanting to place a kiss on the boy’s cheek so bad.

“Thank you.” Harry involuntarily leaned in, not sure about what the hell he was doing, when they heard a woman’s voice coming from the inside of the house. Harry froze, Louis huffed.

“Louis? Louis!” An Hispanic woman ran out on the patio, and Harry feverishly picked up his things, taking Louis’ hand and squeezing it, trying to run away before the maid could see him. “Louis, for God’s sake- hey!”  
Harry run, already out of breath, as far away as he could from that house, even if his legs (and brain, and heart most of all) were screaming ‘go back there, you dolt!’.

“Who was that guy, Louis?” Louis got up, his stick guiding him inside his house again.

“A friend.”

*****

“Gem? Gemma!” Harry yelled, kicking his boots away as he entered his house. “Where are you? Gem-”

“Easy, boy! I’m here,” Gemma said, still clad in her pile pyjamas, the one Harry bought her before she left for America. “What’s wrong? Hey, aren’t you supposed to be still at Uni?” “I need to tell you something.”

*****

Louis was slouched on the white leather sofa of his house’s living room, TV turned on as a background sound. He’d had an unusual wide smile painted on his lips for the rest of the day, and Bianca – their housemaid – clearly noticed it.

“Louis, I’m home!” Jay yelled from the doorway, slipping her black coat off and hanging it to the hall stand. “Hey, you here.”

“Hi, Mom.” Louis said, still smiling. Jay smiled too, completely ignoring the reason of her son’s smile.

“What’s that smile for?” “Nothing, I’m just...” Louis shrugged, getting up from the sofa and walking towards his mother. Jay wasn’t really expecting Louis to come and hug her. “I’m just feeling good.”

*****

“What’s new? You fancy a boy, I already knew you’re gay, Harold.” Gemma said, sprawled on Harry’s bed while her brother was wandering in his room.

“It’s not- okay, it’s a quite long story I have to tell you.” Harry said, sitting next to Gemma.

“Spit it out, baby boy.” Harry huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, it was like a month ago, and the usual way I take to go to Uni was closed, I can't remember why, so I had to take the residential neighbourhood's one. I was walking past the last house of the street, and this window was open. I heard someone playing the piano and- don't look at me like that!" Harry exclaimed, and Gemma raised her hands. "As I was saying, I heard this music playing and I stopped under that windowsill for, like, ten minutes. And I did this every morning since then," Harry ran his hands through his hair, messying it before continuing. "yesterday I saw this boy and his mother right outside that house, and I assumed he was the pianist. He's blind, that's what interested me the most, he's so talented and he's blind-"

"Go on with the story, playboy." Gemma joked, slapping Harry's arm.

"Okay, um... today I skipped my courses, I was- I was waiting for him to start playing the piano when I realised he was sitting right outside his house, and we started talking. He's so cute, God Gemma, what am I going to do, now?"

Gemma just shrugged. “I won’t be so worried if I was you, Harry, I mean... you barely know this boy, you talked to him today for the first time and for, how long? Ten minutes?”

“It’s like I have known him for ages, it’s different...”

“It isn’t. Please, Harry? Wait, it’s all you have to do. Try to talk with that boy-”

“Louis.” Harry pointed out.

“Louis,” Gemma repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Try to talk with Louis again, ask him something about his life, his family, that romantic crap you love talking about. But, is he even gay?”

“I don’t know.” Harry was biting his nails nervously, Gemma grabbed his hands and kept them in between hers.

“Do you know something about him?”

“His-his name and his age.” Harry admitted, and Gemma murmured a ‘what?’. Harry shrugged.

“Waiting is definitely the only thing you have to do.”

* * *

  
“Liam, I’m a hundred percent screwed up.” Harry huffed, sitting next to Liam at the only table free in the nearest Starbucks. 

“What happened?” Liam asked, taking a sip of his cappuccino. Harry mewled in frustration, hiding his face between his hands.

“You talked to Gemma, huh?”

“Yes.”

“What did she say?” 

“That I just have to wait.”

“I would’ve told you the exact same thing, mate.” Harry shook his head. “I mean, what were you expecting her to say? ‘Oh yes ask him to be your boyfriend Harry, I’m sure he won’t absolutely mind the fact that he doesn’t even know you’?”

“He knows me!” Harry exclaimed.

“He just knows your name. Does he?” Liam said, and Harry slapped his forearm. “You need something to distract you from him-”

“Louis.”

“What?”

“His name’s Louis. The pianist.” Harry explained, stealing one of Liam’s chocolate chips cookies.

“Fine, Louis. Thinking about him twenty-four hours on twenty-four isn’t... healthy? I don’t know mate, the last two months have been all ‘Louis, Louis, Louis’.”

“Are you saying you’re jealous?” Harry whispered, caressing Liam’s arm with his fingertips, while looking at him, winking.

“Well, yes. I am, Harry! I am freaking jealous.” Liam said, wiping away some imaginary tears. He then turned to Harry, laughing, and passed him the rest of the biscuits (since Harry nervously ate half of them). “Really, Harry-”

“I’ll try to talk to him again, maybe today, or as soon as possible, I want to know him better, and... we’ll see what happens.”

Liam nodded, looking down at his phone’s screen. “Man, I’m late, hear from you this afternoon, alright?”

“Yeah, yes. Bye Lee.”

“Bye Harold.”

* * *

 “Hi.”

“Harry?”  
  
  



	4. 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY THIS IS A BIT SHITTY BUT SCHOOL'S EATING ME ALIVE I SWEAR IM SO STRESSED OUt im sorry please stick with me until the end of this you all are amazing xx

Louis’ face lit up. “Harry?”

Harry smiled widely, sitting next to Louis. “Yeah. Can I stay?”

“Hmh, Bianca’s out shopping and my Mom’s at work so, why not?” Louis said, smiling back to Harry, even though his face was turned downwards.

“How are you?”

Louis shrugged, then: “Uh, I’m OK. I mean, I haven’t been doing anything besides rehearsing for the concert.”

“What concert?” Harry asked, resting his elbow on his knee and propping his chin on the palm of his hand, staring at Louis as he talked.

“It’s not a proper concert, it’s more like... an audition, for this music academy in Wien.” Louis adjusted his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, since they were continuously slipping off it. “Not that I really care about it, I don’t even want to go there.”

“Why are you doing this, then?”

“I don’t really know. At first I thought it could have been considered as a sort of revenge? You know, for all those people who didn’t believe in me and shit like that,” Harry laughed, and Louis smiled, finally putting his sunglasses away. “but I soon realised I wasn’t doing it for other people, I was doing it just for me, because... I kind of don’t believe in myself either.”

“You’re brilliant, I mean,” Harry scooted over Louis, his thigh grazing the other boy’s nervously bouncing knee. “I understand absolutely nothing about music, but I’ve been working side by side with art in general since I was a little kid, and, um- your music is a form of art, to me. I don’t know how to explain this better, it was all perfectly organised in my head-”

“Thank you, Harry.” Louis said, his cheeks coloured in an adorable shade of red.

“How are you?” _So fucking good you have no idea you really don’t_.

“I’m good, school’s going well, exams are making me super nervous but I’ll handle it.”

“Is it hard?” Louis’ knee had stopped bouncing, and the boy seemed more relaxed.

“Uni?” Louis nodded. “Not that much, well, it obviously is, but... I’m doing what I love, so it doesn’t seem so stressful to me. What school do you go to?”

“I don’t go to school, I refused going to one of those ‘special schools for special kids’, I don’t know if you know what I’m talking about. That shit’s not made for me, I’d rather go to a normal school and be treated as the ‘blind loser’ than go to a private school and have no friends and basically no social life. But my Mom choose home study for me and guess what? I have no friends and no social life.” Louis said, faking a smile. Harry bit his lower lip, torturing it to prevent himself from jumping on Louis and hold him tight against his chest. It wasn’t fair that someone as interesting as Louis hadn’t got a lot of friends because Harry was actually expecting him to.

“You do have a friend.”

“Oh, really?”

“I don’t know if you can already consider me as a friend of yours but- yeah, I-I consider you as one of mine.” Louis smiled, cute wrinkles forming at the sides of his eyes and Harry knew that was a true smile.

“I definitely have a friend now, feels nice.”

“It is nice indeed.”

“Harry, can-can you describe yourself? Like, physically, I-”

“No problems,” Harry assured him, and Louis sighed contently

.

“Uhm, how do I start-” “Your eyes. What colour are your eyes?”

“They’re green, green like-” Harry found it quite hard to explain Louis what corresponded to green since Louis probably had no idea what green looked like. “hope? Didn’t mean to sound cheesy, but it’s said that green is the colour of hope.”

“I like green. And your hair?” “My hair’s kind of curly, Liam, who’s one of my friends think it’s way too long for a boy.” Louis chuckled, and shook his head.

“Can I touch it?” Harry whispered a ‘yes, of course’, and guided Louis’ small hand on his head. His fingers caressed his long locks, as though tracing his curls’ curves, until he grazed Harry’s shoulder. “It is long, but I like it.”

“I’m going to let it grow, then.” Louis smiled, and nodded. He wanted to feel Harry’s features under his fingertips. Was his skin soft? Was his nose small? Was his jaw very distinctive? “What else do you want to know?”

“I’m going to ask you a thing, but promise you won’t find it weird.” Louis said, inhaling deeply after feeling Harry’s nods. “Can I touch your face?” Harry didn’t reply, and Louis started tormenting his bottom lip. “Never mind, it’s okay-”

“You can.”

“Really?” Louis asked, kind of excitedly but still did his best to hide it. Harry grabbed both his hands again, helping them to find the way to his face. “Okay.” Louis’ soft touch felt endearing to Harry, the smaller boy’s fingers grazing over his closed eyelids, slowly wandering to reach his nose. He traced the outline of Harry’s plump lips, and softly blushed, quickly skipping to the curly haired boy’s jaw, down to his neck. Harry was glad Louis couldn’t see how his face literally went on fire as soon as Louis’ fingertips went back to his lips.

“Thank you again. Nobody ever let me do that.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, maybe because it’s weird?” Louis’ hands were still on Harry’s shoulder and the green eyed boy was so, so, so happy Louis didn’t pull them back.

“It isn’t weird, it was nice. I won’t mind if you’ll ask me to do it again, really.” Harry blurted out, without thinking twice (not even once, actually) about what he was saying. The thing he liked the most of being with Louis was that he didn’t have to think, Louis would accept whatever he’d say with a cute smile and a slight blush on his cheeks.

“What time is it?” Louis asked, after a short pause of comfortable silcence.

“It’s... a quarter to eleven. Why?” “How long have you been staying here?” “Uh- ” Harry scratched the nape of his neck because, really, time literally flew by and he didn’t realise for how long he and Louis have been sitting there. “Forty-five minutes?”

“Perfect,” Louis said, grabbing his stick and getting up, and Harry followed him. “I heard Bianca getting inside by the back-door, she’d better find me inside. Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Will you let me listen to something?” Harry asked, grabbing Louis’ thin wrist. The boy grinned.

“Maybe.”

“Oh, please?”

“Fine, but just one thing. Bye Harry.”

“Bye, Louis.”

* * *

 

Harry found it hard to fall asleep, that night.

Louis found it hard to fall asleep, that night.

The curly haired boy kept rolling in his bed, the duvet tangled between his legs. The blind boy was curled up under his sheets, realising he was dumbly smiling in the dark for no apparent reason. Harry picked his phone up, its light blinding him for a moment: 4.07 a.m. _What to do, what to do, what to do..._ Harry thought, his hands covering his face. He actually had thought of something to do, but he couldn’t just show up at Louis’ house at 4 a.m., could he?

Louis huffed, getting up and sitting on his bed, swaying his legs back and forth. _Harry Harry Harry Harry_ was the only thing his brain was able to elaborate, maybe because it was too fucking early and Louis really needed to get at least a couple of hours of sleep, maybe because Harry was the real reason of Louis’ lack of sleep.

Louis liked Harry. He didn’t know in what exact way he did, he just knew he liked him.

Harry liked Louis. He adored that boy, he’d love to spend some more time with him, maybe more than just thirty minutes or even less.

“Louis! Louis!” Louis stood up, frowning as he tried to understand whose voice was the one calling him. “Louis, it’s Harry here!” Harry half whispered, half yelled, hoping that the blue eyed boy was awake.

Louis carefully walked to his room’s window, and slowly opened it: “Harry?”

“I’m here, honey. Can-can I-”

“Quick, c’mon, get in.” Louis whispered, smiling widely as he took a few steps back, waiting for Harry to climb his house’s wall. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Harry said, waiting a minute before hugging Louis. The smaller boy hid in the taller boy’s arms as soon as they wrapped around him.

“What were you doing around here?” Louis asked, his voice muffled by the soft fabric of Harry’s sweatshirt. “I mean, it’s- it’s so early-”

“I couldn’t sleep, so... well, yeah I decided to come and- visit you? It isn’t that early, though-”

“Liar,” Louis laughed, pulling away from Harry’s hug. “What time is it?”

“Uh, almost five o’clock in the morning, actually...” Harry said nonchalantly, chuckling lowly as Louis’ jaw dropped. “Are you tired?”

“Well, yes. It’s been three days since I last slept properly, without falling asleep at six a.m. or waking up every hour, you know.” Louis said, walking to his bed and sitting back on it. Harry nodded, unsure whether to follow the smaller boy or not. “Come here?”

Harry didn’t need to think twice, his legs guiding him over Louis’ king sized bed. “I’m here.”

“Do you- do you have to go or-”

“Do you want me to stay?” _Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes_.

“I don’t know, I- I’d love if you’d stay, really, but-” Louis stuttered out, biting his nails. Harry’s fingers grazed the boy’s thigh, as to reassure him.

“It’s okay, it is normal if you don’t feel at ease, I’ll come see you tomorrow as always, yeah?” Harry said, smiling at Louis, who suddenly shook his head.

“Can you lock the door?” Louis asked, a small smile growing on his thin lips. “I don’t want my mom to walk in on me sleeping with a stranger.”

Harry wanted to scream and dance and yell and hug and kiss Louis everywhere his lips could reach, but he just silently walked to Louis’ bedroom’s door and locked it. “So-” When he turned to Louis, the boy was rubbing his eyes while silently yawning, and Harry couldn’t help but smile as he walked towards the bed. “Sleep, honey.”

“I’ll sleep if you sleep here with me.” The younger boy whispered, cuddling under the duvet. Harry nodded and slipped under the sheets, turning to an already half asleep Louis. “Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“I did nothing-”

“You stayed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed and don't forget to look for me on Facebook: Loveknowsnoboundaries Archiveofourown


	5. 5.

Harry’s fingers wandered through Louis’ caramel-brown hair, as the boy was still heavily asleep. He admired his features: his nose, which was the perfect size for his face, Harry would have loved to place small kisses on it just to hear Louis giggle; his eyes, with ridiculously long eyelashes, which seemed to cast shadows on his prominent cheekbones; his lips, thin and rosy which made Harry truly believe they were made to give blissful kisses. Louis was beautiful, definitely the most beautiful human being Harry’d ever seen. He dared leave a soft kiss on the smaller boy’s forehead and Louis groaned, nuzzling further in Harry’s side. “Uh-”

“’Morning, love.”

“Harry?” Louis whispered, his voice still raspy because of sleep.

“Yes, honey, I’m here,” Harry reassured him, caressing his cheek. “slept well?”

Louis nodded, a content smile growing on his lips. “What about you?”

“Never slept this good. Are you hungry? It’s almost ten a.m..” Harry said, checking his phone before moving his gaze to Louis again.

“Hmh, I’m starving. Do you want me to get something?” Louis asked, already getting up from the bed. Harry gently grabbed his wrist andpulled him on the bed again. “What?”

“Actually,” Harry said, sitting next to Louis. “I know this place where they make delicious pastries... do you like croissants?” Louis nodded.

“I could definitely use one right now.” Harry smiled.

“It’ll take a moment for me to get ready, and then we’ll go. But-”

“Your mom, uh?” Harry asked, biting his lower lip. Louis shrugged.

“It’s just that, you know, I’ve never- I’ve never been out of the house without her permission, so I’m afraid of what would be her reaction since, yeah she doesn’t- she doesn’t even know I know you.”

“Okay, listen,” Harry said, resting one hand on Louis’ shoulder. “I’ll talk to her if she finds out, so you don’t have to worry, alright? We’ll be out just for breakfast’s time and then I’ll take you back home. How does this sound to you?”

“Thank you, Harry, really,” Louis replied, smiling. “I really need to get out of here for a while.”

“Okay then, get ready!” Harry exclaimed as Louis got up and walked over the bathroom. “I’ll wait here.”

“Can you pick some clothes up for me?” Louis asked, and smiled before closing the bathroom’s door.

Harry opened Louis’ (huge) wardrobe and started looking for something that wasn’t all black or grey. The hard part was that Louis only had dark coloured clothes, and Harry thought Louis really needed to escape all that black, he needed someone who’d pull him out of all that darkness he became awfully used to. He’d be that someone, that had now became his main goal.

“Harry?” Louis said, one of his arms peeking out of the bathroom door he’s left ajar. “Can-can you give me my clothes, so I, uh-”

“Yes, yes! Sorry, here you go,” Harry said, rushing to the bathroom and giving Louis’ his clothes. “call me if you need help, I mean-”

“It’s okay,” Louis said, his voice sounding feeble. “thank you. Give me a minute!”

“Don’t worry, take all the time you need.” Harry head Louis’ hum in response as he closed the door.

* * *

 

“One cappuccino, one chai tea latte and two chocolate croissants, please.” Harry ordered to the red haired girl behind the counter.

“It’ll be 6,43£, thank you.” She said as Harry paid.

“I could have paid for it...” Louis murmured, his hands keeping a firm grip on Harry’s forearm.

“Shush. Let’s go get a seat, hm?” Louis huffed out a laugh, but let Harry guide him to the small table he chose. “Here you go.” Harry said, as he sat on the chair opposite Louis’ and handed him his tea.

“This place seems quite crowded, is it?” Louis asked, sipping his tea.

“Lots of people come here, especially students because our University’s cafeteria sucks. I come here every day and, yes, it always is full of people. Do you like it here?”

“Yes, well, since the only people who’re always around me are my mom and Bianca. Feels nice to hear people talking, laughing and stuff. I don’t get to feel this atmosphere very often.”

“I don’t have any courses today- _Well, I actually do, but I’d rather spend the whole semester with you than with my a-tad-too-mad Art teacher._ –so I thought we could, uhm, spend some time together, just hanging out-”

“You know it’ll be a complete waste of time since sightseeing isn’t really something for me, do you?” Louis replied sarcastically, and Harry caught the hurt in Louis’ voice.

“We won’t go sightseeing then, we’ll just... walk around here. Friends do that.” Harry said, his cappuccino, now probably cold, completely forgotten. Louis seemed to be taking into account Harry’s offer for a moment, and the curly haired boy really wished the answer was going to be a yes. “Well, a little walk never killed anyone.”

* * *

 

 

“You’re going to get me in trouble, Harry Styles.” Louis chuckled, as Harry just informed him that they’ve spent four hours walking around London completely aimlessly. Harry laughed, tightening the grip his arm exercised on Louis’ waist and pulling him closer. “You look like you’re enjoying breaking some rules, aren’t you?” Harry said as they were walking back to Louis’ house. “I loved spending time with you, today.”

“Same thing. You’re funny,” Louis said, leaning in and resting his head on Harry’s shoulder for a moment. “and interesting, I like talking to you. You make me feel at home.” Harry’s heart started pounding against his chest, he could hear it beating loudly in his ears he was afraid Louis could hear it too.

“Thank you, Lou. You’re amazing. Here we are, love.” Harry accompanied Louis until they reached the younger boy’s house’s door, waiting in silence for Louis to say something back. The shorter boy didn’t say a thing, he simply wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and hugged him. “I don’t know how to thank you for today.”

Harry simply smiled and hugged Louis tightly, his sweet scent pervading Harry’s nostrils. “See you tomorrow?”

“As always.”

* * *

"Louis! Where have you been the whole day?!"


	6. Chapter 6

“Bianca was in hysterics because you were nowhere to be found, Louis! I don’t know how many times I’ve told you you’re not allowed to get out of here without my or Bianca’s permission, and you always have to have someone who comes with you.” Johannah angrily said, and Louis huffed, sitting on the sofa opposite the armchair she was sitting on.

“Nothing bad happened-” Louis tried, but Jay interrupted him before he could continue.

“I don’t care. You’re not getting out of this damn house if I’m not coming with you. Is this clear enough?” Louis sighed exasperatedly.

“You can’t lock me in here, I mean, you- you just can’t! I want to have a life, I want to go out and meet people, make friends, I’m eighteen years old and about to turn nineteen and I have no friends. Does this sound normal to you?”

“You’re not like every eighteen years old boy, Louis.”

“Oh, and why?” Louis slyly laughed. “Because I’m blind? Do you know how many blind people are out there looking for a job, going to school, living their lives like every fucking person on this damn planet?”

“Watch your mouth, Louis!” Jay had no words to reply to Louis’ attacks, so she just started behaving like the ‘bad mother’ she knew she wasn’t, though.

“I don’t care, I don’t-” Louis stopped for a moment, bringing his hands up to his face to cover it: he tried his best to cover up the tears, but Jay knew. “fine. I’ll be in my room.”

Louis got up from the sofa, grabbed his walking stick and stormed upstairs, slamming his room’s door closed. Jay’s hand unconsciously moved to her son’s wrist, in order to stop him and try to talk more... civilly, but she forced herself to retreat it. She sat there, her face hid in her hands, not hearing her son’s loud sobs coming from his room.

* * *

 

“I want you to meet him, you’ll like him. I mean, you two... you’ll get along pretty well, I think.”

“I’m not going to steal your boy, Harry,” Liam said, playfully pushing Harry. “no worries.”

“You better not- oh my God, Louis!” Harry said, dropping his backpack on the concrete and running to the window which Louis was trying to climb off, and Harry spot a small black bag beside him, resting on the windowsill. “I’m Harry, I got you, love. What were you trying to do-” As soon as he got in Harry’s arms, Louis wrapped his own arms around the older one’s neck and his thin legs around his waist, hid his face in the space between Harry’s neck and shoulder and started sobbing. “What’s wrong, hey,” Harry tried lifting Louis’ face up, but the younger boy shook his head and hid his face again. Harry turned to Liam, looking at him questioningly: the dark eyed boy shrugged, walking over them. “I got you, sh, what happened?”

“I want to leave, I don’t want to see or talk to her anymore, please, please Harry take me away from here.” Louis pleaded, and Harry didn’t know what to think, and worse, what to do with the crying boy still clinging on him as if he was his anchor.

“Something happened with your mom?” Louis nodded. “Alright, I-”

“Harry...” Liam said, and Louis suddenly lifted his face from the crook of Harry’s neck. “Uh, oh, sorry, I’m Liam, one of Harry’s friends.” Louis nodded once again, before being gently put back on the ground by Harry.

“Please.”

“Okay, you... you can come and stay with me, then we’ll try to solve this situation.” Liam was shaking his head disapprovingly as Harry got on his tiptoes to grab Louis’ bag and walking stick. “Here you go- don’t worry, I’ll carry your bag.”

“Thank you.” Louis whispered, before one of Harry’s strong arms was wrapped around his waist.

* * *

 

 

“Mom! Mom, it’s me, I’m home! We-we have a guest? Yeah, yes we do-” Louis nuzzled his face further in Harry’s chest, and the older boy’s hand unconsciously flew up on Louis’ back and started stroking it. “Don’t worry, she’ll adore you as soon as she’ll lay her eyes on you.” The younger boy relaxed a bit and giggled.

“Harry- oh, hello! Is he the one you’ve been talking to me about for the past three months?” Anne asked, and Harry’s face went on fire.

“Mom, please...” Louis chuckled, covering his mouth with both hands. “He’s Louis, by the way. Louis, she’s my mother, Anne.”

Louis kept his face turned down, he knew that he wasn’t behaving in the best of the ways but he felt as Harry’s mother was waiting for him to shake her hands, but Louis couldn’t even see where her hand was. “Are you okay, darling?” Anne had bent her knees a bit, so that she could see Louis’ face: as soon as her eyes found Louis’ ones, she looked up at her son, who shrugged.

“I’m sorry, I-I’m Louis, I’m sorry I didn’t want to disturb it’s just-” Anne shushed him by taking one of his trembling hands and smiled, even though Louis couldn’t see her; yet, he felt incredibly reassured. “It’s okay, you’re always welcome here,” Harry smiled, relieved when Louis lifted his face up and finally gave a hint of a smile. “do you guys want to eat something? Liam?”

“No, thank you Anne. You know what my mother can be like when I’m late.” The brown eyed boy said, and Anne nodded, laughing.

“You better not let her wait, then. Good night, darling.”

“Good night, Anne,” Liam politely greeted her, and turned to Harry and Louis before leaving. “’Night, Harry, ‘night, Louis, things will get better... and don’t forget that Harry’s friends are also friends of mine, alright?” Louis smiled and nodded, and then Liam left.

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked, and Louis shook his head. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t really feel like eating right now, I’m-”

“No needs to be sorry for this, love. I’m taking you upstairs so you can rest, yeah?” Louis nodded, and Harry led him upstairs to his room after Louis had wished Anne good night. “Here we are.”

“Harry, uh... can you help me?” Louis asked, his cheeks coloured in a light shade of red. Harry nodded and walked over the tiny boy, and helped him getting undressed: Louis shivered when Harry’s cold hands grazed his body as he was helping him wearing his pyjamas.

“I don’t have a spare room so I guess we’ll have to sleep together, or I can sleep on the sofa downstairs if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“Was it you who showed up in my room at four in the morning and slept in my same bed, or was it someone else?” Louis said, a mischievous half smile growing on his lips: Harry was glad that the Louis he (partly) knew was back.

“I guess that meant that you feel comfortable enough to sleep with me.” Harry said, climbing on the bed and sitting next to Louis. “How are you?”

“I’m rather good now, I’d say,” Louis simply replied, laying back on the bed, which surely wasn’t made for two, but Harry had no doubts they’d fit in there somehow. “I mean, I can’t live here forever, even though I’d love to, your Mom’s so nice.”

“When I was little, I thought I had lots of mothers, because my Mom changes her manners really quickly, obviously it depends on the situation. I really hope you’ll never see her when she’s angry.” Louis laughed. “No, I’m serious, she goes completely mad.”

“Shush, she’ll hear you.” Louis said, reaching out for Harry’s arm and pushing it. “You’re really close, are you?”

“I have a good relationship with both my Mom and my Dad even after their divorce, but I grew up to her always by my side so, yeah... we are really close.” Louis nodded and smiled sadly, getting up again and hugging his knees. “Your mother loves you unconditionally, Louis, every mother does. She may be a little overprotective, but she does it just for you.” Louis nodded, hiding his face in his hands.

“I’m- I’m tired.”

“Oh, yes- sleep, honey.”

“Are you going downstairs?” Louis asked; Harry couldn’t help but smile lovingly at him.

“I’ll go only if you want me to.”

“Well then, I don’t think I want you to.” Harry wrapped his arms around Louis’ body and held him tight, the smaller boy giggled lowly and enjoyed the embrace as long as it lasted. Louis’s shelter was in Harry’s arms, he decided that night, when both of them laid down on the bed and Harry clearly wasn’t planning in breaking the hug any sooner.

Louis slept incredibly good, that night.


	7. NOT A CHAPTER

Hi everyone! I'm so so so sorry last time I updated was like a billion years ago? I've been so busy plus I'm working on a couple of other fics and chapters I'll post soon (don't fully trust me tho)   
Anyway what I wanted to say is I'm going to edit this one from start to finish because I actually started not liking it at all while re-reading it so I wanna fix it. Plus I've deleted the last three chapters because they were highly unrealistic and kind of childish to my eyes, I'd say? Once again, I apologise and thank you all for sticking with me and my poorly written stories.   
Lots of gay love,   
loveknowsnoboundaries


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